Nan of the Island
by Writing Epistles
Summary: The life of Nan Blythe from the Summer of 1914, until the end of The Great War.
1. Chapter 1

Just a short walk from the Bright River Train station, under a large, wild cherry tree at the bend of the railroad track sat a young lady. Her nut-brown hair blithely danced with the light breeze, and her chocolate eyes were transfixed upon "The Wings of the Dove" as rays of sunshine peeked between branches of the cherry tree, gently caressing her soft face.

She was _supposed_ to be sitting on the wooden bench on the platform, patiently awaiting her train. She had been doing just that too, until she could no longer resist curling up beneath the beautiful blossoms that remained from the late spring, losing herself in her novel. The time of day gave no shade to the bench, and the station was far too busy and noisy for reading. The cherry tree just _beckoned_ her to introduce herself, and she did just that.

She was on friendly terms with almost all the trees she had ever met, but this one seemed to know her or of her from time on end. Possibly it knew her before she had even been born. Over the years, the cherry tree had grown tall, proud, and very beautiful while greeting the many train passengers that passed it. Every once in a while, it found a spirit to be kindred and beckoned the kindred spirit to commune with it. Once, it had almost managed to convince a precocious girl with red braids to sleep within its bows. This young lady somehow reminded it of the girl with red braids;, though not necessarily in looks. There was that kinship of soul though, and the cherry tree delighted to give the young lady shade as she read and daydreamed.

After spending the past year teaching school in Avonlea, the young lady felt she deserved a moment of just exactly what the tree offered. No matter how much she loved Avonlea and most of its residents, she longed for the quiet beauty and trees of Rainbow Valley and Glen St. Mary. Ingleside was there, and Ingleside was home – the home to which she, Nan Blythe, was returning!

Her year in Avonlea had been both good and bad. One of the best parts was that she stayed with her mother's oldest, dearest friend, Mrs. Wright, and her family. Though there was a five year difference in their ages, Nan became very close friends with the older, sophisticated Anne Cordelia Wright, now called Delia.

Delia, or "Small Anne Cordelia," as Nan's mother insisted upon called her, wrote for the Avonlea Chronicle and had her B.A. from Redmond already. She was also engaged to marry a distant cousin of Nan's, Thomas Fletcher, who was a handsome, jolly fellow – cut from the same cloth as his Blythe ancestors. Delia promised Nan that she could be bridesmaid, since Delia wasn't especially close to many other girls.

Most of the girls in Avonlea were either Pyes or Sloanes or acted like them in order to fit with the afore mentioned Pyes and Sloanes. While studying at Redmond, Delia had made friends, but she could honestly say that until Nan Blythe came to live at Lone Willow Farm, she never before had a bosom friend.

A bosom friend was just what Nan needed that year, too. Though she had spent the two previous years away from home studying at Queen's Academy, she had never before been so long separated from her twin, Diana, and she felt the distance keenly.

Though they looked and acted nothing alike, Nan and Di shared a bond that only twins can know. It started before they were even born and would remain until death would someday claim them both. They grew up side by side, attended the Glen School and Queen's together. They complimented each other splendidly. Whereas Nan was often quiet and introspective in a crowd, Diana was always a jolly soul who never seemed to meet a stranger. Jolly, witty Diana, whose red hair had a swirl to it, was often the more popular of the two sisters, as well. Those who didn't know Nan well often thought that she held her head a little to highly and thought herself too good to speak. Truth to be told, she was never sure what exactly to say to strangers and often was so lost in daydreams that she wasn't aware when she was spoken to.

Nan dreamed all the time, and in younger days her imagination was known to run away from her. She also felt things greatly. When she was made aware of some people's opinion of her, it hurt her deeply. She was never one to easily forget an injury either. It was often easier to hold her head high and ignore the party who injured her than to set herself up for more pain.

So maybe some called her proud because of these defense mechanisms. Maybe she _was_ slightly proud as well, but who wouldn't be with a family as wonderful as hers? After all, her father was known as the best doctor within miles, and she was blessed with a wonderful mother who had more than one of her "children's stories" published. Also, how many girls could say their oldest brother won the Avery Scholarship to Queen's, graduated with his B.A, and just completed his first year of medical school at the top of his class? Who else had another brother, though recovering from a setback with Typhoid, was well on his way to becoming Canada's greatest poet? She has the smartest, wittiest twin sister there was, her younger brother Shirley was growing up to be a wonderfully introspective young man, and baby Rilla was becoming the prettiest thing anyone had ever set eyes upon. So yes, she was in a way proud – just not in the manner some proclaimed.

Her year in Avonlea was also somewhat bittersweet because dear, wonderful Green Gables was shut up and devoid of any inhabitants. It had been four years since Aunt Marilla had passed away. Her health had really declined after Mrs. Rachel Lynde passed from a stroke a year before her. Uncle Davey and Aunt Millie had moved to Alberta, where Aunt Dora lived, indefinitely, hopefully allowing their daughter Amanda to get over consumption. It was widely believed that once Jem finished medical school, the house was to be his. Whatever the case, it hurt Nan terribly to see Green Gables so dark, so lonely. Had the townsfolk not looked down upon it, she considered living there by herself while teaching, but Mother convinced her it would horribly lonely there alone.

Mother was _always_ right, and she would have gone stark, raving mad those horrible days in November when no one was sure if Walter would live or die of Typhoid, had she been by herself. Delia and the rest of the Wrights made sure to keep her spirits up when all she could do was wait by the telephone and pray for her brother's recovery.

The year was over, and she was soon to be on a train that would take her back to Glen St. Mary. The excitement almost overcame her, so all she could do to pass the time was read a book, nestled against her newest friend, the cherry tree who seemed to know her so very well.

The cherry tree was not the only being at the train station drawn to the pretty picture Nan Blythe made. Someone else, just arrived and awaiting the same train found her even more alluring than his rival, the tree did. He had known Nan Blythe for years, but seeing her thus, he saw her differently than any girl his eyes had ever focused upon. Suddenly he wasn't as disgruntled as he had been five minutes previous because his return to the Glen had been delayed by a day.


	2. Chapter 2

"I was feeling quite the unlucky fellow when I learned that my return to Glen St. Mary would be delayed by a day. I was even more dismayed to learn that the only train going to Glen St. Mary today was going through Bright River and not Maywater. I felt the Fates must be against me for sure. Imagine my surprise when I caught a glimpse of none other than Nan Blythe awaiting the same train, I assume."

Nan glanced up from her book to find of all people, Jerry Meredith standing before her with a roguish smile spreading across his lips. "Would that surprise be a _good_ one, or would it be the opposite?" she asked, her eyes shining in the sunlight so that they looked more like marigolds than eyes.

Jerry laughed, "I hope that it is a good surprise. That is, if you'll keep me company on the way home?" he sheepishly asked. "You see, I just haven't had a good argument with anyone since well, Christmas, when we last met."

Despite how unsure she was around strangers, Nan could be fairly lively around those she knew well. Over the past few years, it seemed that she and Jerry often sought each other out for discussions and lively debates over everything from predestination to worker's rights and suffrage. "I don't know, _Mister_ Meredith," she teased. "Would it be entirely proper for the two of us to sit together, alone, on a train ride of almost sixty miles – _without a chaperone_? I _do_ have my virtue to consider, you know."

In mock contemplation, he stroked his chin. "I'm fairly certain that in this modern day and age, it wouldn't be considered improper, nor should your virtue be tarnished. Though I am always up for a _little_ impropriety. It would certainly pass the time more quickly, _wouldn't it_?"

With a snap, Nan shut her book and began gathering her things as she heard the train's whistle off in the distance. "_Gerald_ Meredith, if you intend to act _that_ way, you can keep your own company.

Already regretting having made such a forward statement, he started to apologize. For some reason, he didn't want Nan Blythe to remain angry with him or think ill of him. She wasn't like some of the girls he had met at Redmond. - the girls he had little respect for. "Awe Nan, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean to imply anything. I know you're not _that_ kind of girl."

"But _you're_ that kind of boy now? " She was no longer teasing.

"Hardly. " His laugh grew more nervous. " I might be a great orator in front of a crowd but being in the presence of pretty girls always turns me into a buffoon."

"Thank goodness you're _not_ in the presence of a pretty girl, then." She was being modest, but hoped to goodness that he wouldn't agree with her.

"Don't I know it!" he _did_ agree!

Nan's pride, as would most any girl's, _had_ been affected by Jerry's concurrence with her comment. For some reason it stung more that if Carl or Kenneth Ford or Jack Wright had said it. "My word! I would hate to see how you would act in front of a girl you _did_ think was pretty!"

Realizing the error in his previous exclamation, Jerry's eyes grew huge. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Nan. Of course I don't think of _you_ as _pretty_!"

"How do you think of me then, _Jerry_?"

"Any old girl can be pretty, Nan. You're more than that, and maybe you'll allow me to explain all the things you are on the train. That was the conductor calling."

It was good for Jerry that though Nan had inherited a great deal of her personality from her mother, she had also been blessed with her father's more forgiving heart – at least in some circumstances. She understood that Jerry had never meant to offend her. Just what he _did_ think of her scared her a bit, though. She held her long, slender hand out for him to help her to her feet, which he did obligingly. She dusted off her dress, and then sweetly told him, "It would be my pleasure to keep you company on the train ride home, Jerry. I can't _wait_ to hear you crawl your way out of this mess."

Such a genuine, sweet smile radiated from her face that Gerald Meredith came to a conclusion he had long suspected; he loved Miss Nan Blythe with every fiber of his being. Though he loved to argue with a great many people, Nan Blythe was his favorite opponent.

They started walking their way back to the train platform when Nan's foot caught in a molehill. Just as she was about to hit the ground, Jerry scooped her up into his arms. Nan had never before noticed exactly how strong those arms were until then. His flashing black eyes pierced through her soft brown ones, and they stood there in the middle of the Bright River train yard rather awkwardly and a not a _little_ inappropriately gazing into each other's eyes and their very souls.

Nan felt a rush of heat rise to her cheeks as she blushed. A jolt of electricity ran all through her slender body. Never before had she ever felt a sensation like it, and she liked it – a great deal. She felt as if her arms and legs were frozen in place and time, and she was only being held up by Jerry's striking onyx eyes and steadfast arms.

They might have stayed like that forever, had the conductor not started calling, "All aboard!" and had the whistle not started loudly blowing it's whistle. With nary a word between them, Jerry helped Nan to her feet. They resumed their course to the platform and on to the train, though Jerry never let go of his grasp of Nan's hand.

Forgetting their earlier conversation, Nan asked Jerry, "Whatever are you doing on this end of the Island?" once they were seated. "I imagine you would have gone home from Redmond last week with Jem and Faith once finals were finished."

"Normally I would have, but a friend of mine from back when Father had the church in Mayfield invited me to visit him."

"Does this friend have a name?"

Jerry had to laugh at his own absentmindedness. "His name is Dan Baxter. We were born within a week of each other. Our mother's were very close friends as well. Visiting there makes me feel like I'm getting to visit with ghosts of my mother some times."

Without thinking, Nan put her hand on Jerry's. "I can't imagine what it would be like not to have my Mother or Dad in my life."

Jerry sighed. This wasn't something he discussed with anyone much, but he felt he could share just about anything with Nan. "You get used to it, with time. Most days are fine, but then the loss just sort of creeps back up on me a little. I wonder what she would think of me today, whether or not she would be proud of me, and funny things like what sort of discussions _we_ would have over current events. You know, you remind me of her, somewhat. I remember her as always being well informed and always having an opinion but only willing to share it with certain people."

Nan cast down her eyelids, trying to hide her feelings, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. If I ever have a daughter some day, I'm going to name her Cecilia, after my mother. The world needs another Cecilia Meredith in it some day. It has gone too long without one." He didn't say it aloud, but he thought to himself, "_And she should look just like you, Nan Blythe."_ Instead he excused himself to go buy a newspaper.

He returned to find his companion deep in though, staring out the window as Prince Edward Island whirled past. He sat back down next to her, handing her a cold, glass bottle of Canada's finest cola.

"I thought you might be thirsty."

Nan smiled and accepted the drink. She _was_ thirsty. "Thank you." She then noticed he had nothing for himself to drink. "Didn't you want one too?" she asked.

A little embarrassed, Jerry couldn't help but grin, "It's not so much _wanting_ as being able to _afford_ it. I may be a college boy, but I'm still a mere parson's son as well."

Nan didn't like that Jerry was doing without refreshment, just so that he could provide one for her. She could have afforded to have bought both of them a cola. She was the one who had a year's teaching salary saved. She stopped a porter walking by and politely asked, 'Could you please bring us two straws, sir?

She placed both straws inside the bottle. "I know that you're too proud to let me return the favor, so please share this with me."

Jerry intended to decline her offer, but it was June, and he was thirsty. The way she looked at him when offering to share, he knew he could deny her nothing. "All right! We can share it, since you've _demanded_ it," he joked.

Rather than start another argument, she demurely replied, "Thank you." Then she changed the subject. "You don't hear my boys your age talking of things like what they intend to name their daughters."

"Oh, I have plans, Nan, big plans for my life. I want to open a law practice in Charlottetown or Summerside, maybe even run for office, and I want a large house, filled to the brim with children – not just my Cecilia. I also want a loving, faithful wife to share it all with," he admitted, looking directly into Nan's eyes, causing her to blush.

Unable to look Jerry directly in the eyes, Nan told him, "I always thought that you would make a great minister, maybe even better than your father."

Jerry smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment then. My father is the best minister in all of Canada. However, I don't intend to follow in his footsteps. I want to matter on a grand scale."

"Your father matters."

"In Glen St. Mary, yes. I want to do more than tend a little flock in a minuscule hamlet, though. I want to be a great statesmen maybe." Looking at his newspaper he added, "I think we'll need some great statesmen in the near future. The Kaiser and the rest of the Hun need to be put in their place before they drag all of us into something disastrous," a bitter taste formed in his mouth as he told her this.

Nan laughed, being reminded of Jerry's aunt by marriage, "You sound like your Aunt Ellen, Jerry, the way you're talking about the Kaiser."

"She's right, you know. That man is no good. He wants what his cousin, King George has, I think. At least he wants as vast an Empire with 'breathing room.' The entire world is a powder keg , and I'm afraid that any spark might ignite a war that Germany has been planning for twenty years!" His voice was growing very loud.

"Jerry," Nan tried to say calmly, "don't you think that in this day and age civilized society is beyond pointless war?"

Jerry shook his head. "No, I don't. I don't think man will ever be evolved beyond the need for war. Not as long as sin is in the world. Greed, lust, and envy will always push maniacal, unstable people to places of power where they can influence unspeakable atrocities."

Nan wished to respond, but the train stopped. They were home. Jerry stepped off the train and noticed that no one was waiting for either of them. Nan remained and asked, "Shall we agree to disagree" hold out her hand to him.

He took the hand offered him and kissed it before helping her from the train. "Only if you'll agree to let me walk you home, _and_ if you'll meet me in Rainbow Valley to _discuss_ things more _in depth_," he slyly smiled.

Words escaped Nan momentarily, so she only nodded in acceptance. Jerry gave her his arm, and the two happily walked toward Ingleside though neither could say much of anything.

From inside the train station, Mary Vance watched them as she purchased tickets for Miss Cornelia and herself to go to Charlottetown the next day. My, but she was surprised to see Jerry Meredith kissing proud Nan Blythe's hand and looking at her with what she could only describe as sheep's eyes!


	3. Chapter 3

That particular walk to Ingleside from the train station with Jerry was probably one of the most wonderful strolls Nan had ever taken in her life. Their lack of conversation didn't matter at all, because every glance – every smile told her everything she needed to know just then.

She would never be sure if it was more excitement of being home again, or the thrill of being with Jerry, but Nan's heart beat wildly as they strolled through Rainbow Valley. A peculiar sadness crept within her as they reached the ivy-laden brick wall of Ingleside's garden. She thought she _should_ have been happier to be home. She _was_ glad, but knowing her time alone with Jerry was ending made that gladness _less_.

"I suppose…" he sighed, "we're at the end of our journey?" he both asked and stated.

"Yes, I guess we are," she demurely agreed, just then realizing that he was still holding onto her hand. She attempted to say something – _anything_, but words seemed to fall short. She could only shyly gaze into his eyes, but somehow they spoke volumes on their own.

Jerry found himself lost in those eyes; those velvety soft, brown eyes with just a hint of sharpness within their depths. Only the voice of Nan's twin Diana broke the reverie shared between the two.

"Nan! _There_ you are! Walter and I just missed you at the train station!" The excitement in her voice quickly disappeared and was replaced with a peculiar sharpness, "Hello Jerry."

Slowly behind Diana ambled Walter. How pale and thin and _frail_ he looked to both Jerry and Nan. They had seen so little of him when they were both home at Christmas. He had been so weak then that he kept to his room most of the break.

Somehow Jerry finally managed to let go of Nan's hand and offered one to Walter when he bade him hello.

"Hello, Jerry! We didn't expect you to be with this sister of ours. We were under the impression that you would be in Maywater a while longer."

"Well, I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome," Jerry replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Quietly Di said through gritted teeth, "No, no! Of _course_ not!" Walter and Nan both turned their heads to her, perplexed by why she would say that.

Jerry chose to both ignore her and take the hint at the same time. "I guess I should head on to the manse, though Father and Rosemary aren't expecting me tonight."

Di took Nan's arm, and without a goodbye started for the house. "Susan has supper all ready for us, Nan. She made all of your favorite dishes. She wouldn't want us to think so, but I think she's thrilled that all of are at home for the summer."

While they walked toward the garden, Walter remembered seeing the Meredith family driving toward Lowbridge. "That reminds me, Jerry. You might as well join us at Ingleside for supper. Di and I saw the whole manse bunch headed to Lowbridge."

He looked to where Di was still pushing a heavy-footed Nan toward Ingleside with an air of confusion, "I _wouldn't_ want to intrude." He couldn't understand why Diana Blythe was suddenly so hostile toward him.

With a light slap on the shoulder, "Nonsense! You know Susan has made enough to feed an entire army, Jerry. You're always welcome at Ingleside. Why, you're almost like family," Walter assured him.

Ingleside had been home to Dr. Gilbert Blythe and his family for the past twenty years. All of the six living children of the doctor and his wife, Anne, had been born there save their oldest, Jem. It was a merry house, always active, always welcoming from the lower step of the lengthy verandah edged with lush mint leaves, to the garret where hours and hours of play passed many a rainy day. The most welcoming of places in Ingleside was the dining room, where the entire family gathered for their evening meal.

No matter how busy the lives of all the Blythes were, they always tried to spend the evening meal together. It was an unspoken rule, understood by all. The only exception to this rule was when the good doctor was called away to tend a patient. Thankfully on this evening, Dr. Blythe was inside, waiting alongside his wife to welcome his daughter. Finally, the family was back together under one roof.

At the dinner table, talk revolved around the plans everyone had for the summer. Gertrude Oliver, the Glen teacher whom everyone loved and Rilla adored, was to return to her home on Lowbridge in two days.

Miss Oliver was a favorite among the whole family, even if she was just a tad dark and morbid from time to time. Nan liked her all the more for that darkness. To Nan, it made Miss Oliver seem more romantic, like the heroine of some gothic novel. Then, Nan wouldn't have wanted to be dark and morbid _herself_, despite the romance of it all. Another Glen teacher once described her quite plainly as, "Blythe by name and blithe by nature." Still yet, that seemed just right to fit Nan.

"Nan- girl," her father called her attention, "it is good to have you home again. I hope to goodness that you didn't scandalize the good Blythe family name in my hometown." His hazel eyes twinkled as he addressed her.

"Oh, no more than was expected, I think Dad. Though I think that Mrs. Fletcher was afraid that I would."

Dr. Blythe rolled his eyes. "That is because my cousin Lorne married someone with Sloane antecedents in her lineage." The Blythes and even Jerry had heard enough stories of Avonlea over the years to know that any mention of Sloanishness was enough said.

"Thank goodness their children took after the Blythes and Fletchers," Jem laughed with a bit of his father's clannishness about him.

"Janie is becoming more Sloane all the time, I think," Nan informed him. "Brenden, Thomas, and Judith are all very nice though. Brenden is actually going to Redmond in September. He wants to study to be a minister. Dad. They're all hoping that the pulpit in Avonlea will be empty when he's finished with college and divinity school." She glanced at Jerry, and remembering their earlier conversation decided to change the subject, "I was wandering around the old Blythe homestead one evening and found several apple trees with G.B. and A.S. carved into them. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"You can't fault a boy for dreaming, can you?" the doctor asked in return.

Anne took his hand and looking at him with eyes full of years of love commanded him, "You had better never stop dreaming."

Everyone else at the table chose to look away, though they were quite accustomed to such displays of affection between their parents. Across the table, Rilla asked, "Did _you_ have a string of beaux following you around Avonlea, Nan? I want to have them lined up. Mother says that if there is to be a party or dance after my birthday in late July, I may attend."

Nan looked Rilla over for the first time since she'd been home and realized she was no longer the rolly polly baby sister of yesterdays past and not really even the spider of just a few months ago. Then she looked over to where Jerry was. He seemed to be hanging on her every word, awaiting an answer. "I was too busy teaching school, Rilla. I hadn't time for such things, really. Besides, there's no one in Avonlea that interests me enough."

Jerry sighed a little too audibly, causing Di to ask, "Was it just _heaven_ staying under the same roof as Jack Wright? I find him quite dashing. Also, our mutual cousin we share with Jack, Rory Wright, is fairly handsome, if I recall correctly."

Rory Wright was another Fletcher cousin. All were the grandchildren of Gilbert's father's sister, who once kept Pacifique Buote as a hired boy. In fact there were seven Fletcher cousins living in or near Avonlea. Gilbert's cousin Lorne had Thomas, Brenden, Judith, and Janie. Lorne's elder sister Nell Carroll had a son named Fletcher. Lorne's younger sister, Emily married Ned Wright, Fred Wright's brother. They had two children, Rory and his younger sister Corrine. Most of them were friendly, _blithe_ sorts. Some were of the Race of Joseph, and some most assuredly were _not_. Despite their being blood-kin though, Nan preferred to spend most of her time in the company of the Wrights. Being near Aunt Diana and Uncle Fred made her feel closer to home somehow.

At Di's question to Nan regarding Jack and Rory Wright, Jem let out a loud, unmistakable groan, garnering him an angry look from her. Nan answered her twin flatly, "Jack Wright is a nice enough young man, but you seem to have forgotten two important things. The first is that Jack and Rory both live in Charlottetown, working for the railroad. The second is that Jack and Judy Fletcher are quite sweet on each other. So no, it wasn't." Nan narrowed her eyes, trying to study why her sister was acting in such a manner toward Jerry still.

Mrs. Blythe, seriously wishing to change the subject from what it was to something else did so, "Jerry, Jem tells me that you're at the top of your class at Redmond, congratulations."

"Thank you, Mrs. Blythe."

"Word has it that you plan to study the law. That's a very noble profession when for the right reasons," the doctor added while noticing the very warm glances that Nan and Jerry seemed to be sharing from across the table. As a father, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. "_Children shouldn't be allowed to grow up so quickly,_" voiced in his mind, though he would never admit such sentimentality to anyone.

"Yes sir," Jerry answered, though not entirely taking his gaze off of Nan. "I want to be able to represent the oppressed people who cannot represent themselves. I should like very much to be in Ottawa some day, I think."

"I'm sure that you will have a tremendous career and succeed in all future ventures," Mrs. Blythe approved. She too noticed the exchange between her namesake daughter and the minister's son and became curious about other ventures of a more personal nature that Jerry sought.

Walter spoke up, "I cannot wait to get back to Redmond after the past couple of years away. Teaching, what little of it I was able to do, was rewarding, but I'm ready to become absorbed in studies again as you, Faith, and Jem have been."

By appearances, Nan didn't think Walter was strong enough yet to return to Redmond. "Are you sure you're up to it, Walter?"

The doctor spoke up for his son, knowing that Walter was tired of such questions, yet also knowing that Nan had no way of being aware of it. "He will be more than strong enough after an idle summer. Besides, with you and Di in Kingsport to watch over him, he'll probably be pampered too much."

Shock and disbelief registered on each twins' face. They couldn't believe what it was that they were hearing. It was an unspoken understanding that they were to teach another year before going to University. "I thought we were to teach another year, Dad?" Di asked.

Dr. Blythe brought his napkin to his pursed lips, thinking of how he wished to phrase his reply. Always the voice of reason and rational thought, how could he explain to his family that something deep down in his gut told him that if the twins didn't go to Redmond this September, then maybe they never would. Yes, he did want his two eldest daughters to fuss over Walter and keep a shrewd eye on him. They had come very close to losing him last November. There was more to his desire for them to continue their educations sooner rather than later though.

"I think you two should go ahead and go this autumn," was all he told them though. "The money is there, and I know you both would probably prefer it, devoted as you may be to your students. Also, you girls can keep an eye on Jem and Walter. "

Jem piped in with his two cents on the matter. "I think it's a great idea having all of us at Redmond at the same time. Maybe the two of you can find a house to share with Faith, so she can get out of that stuffy old boarding house." To himself he added, "_Then maybe I can see a little more of her than I did last year_."

Walter was unsure of whether or not he liked the idea of the girls watching over him, but realized the benefits of having Di, his closest confidant, near him. Shirley and Rilla were indifferent. Shirley planned on going to Queen's in Charlottetown, and Rilla planned to have a good time – nothing else. Jerry probably was the most pleased by this announcement. Suddenly September couldn't come soon enough. _Finally_, he might have someone on his arm at social gatherings.

When dinner ended Jerry decided that he really did need to be going home to the manse. He thanked his hosts for dinner, bade everyone goodbye, and headed out the door as Jem instructed him to "Tell Faith 'hello' for me."

Jerry nodded to Jem and left, looking for any sort of acknowledgment from Nan. Di, visibly relaxing with Jerry leaving, had already headed off somewhere with Walter, making plans for the coming school year. Shirley was reading a book, and Rilla was poring over the newest catalog from Eaton's.

Nan suddenly felt very lost. Everyone else returned to their own lives, and she felt just as disconnected as she had been while living in Avonlea. The only tether connecting Nan of Lone Willow Farm to Nan of Ingleside were Jerry's dark eyes, and how their gaze never left her. Even as he slowly exited Ingleside, his eyes remained fixed on her, somehow knowing, understanding how after being away has made home different from how it had been before she left.

Finally Jerry turned his back and started walking toward Rainbow Valley and the manse. With a jolt, Nan realized that she wasn't yet ready to take her leave of him. Without anyone noticing, she slipped outside, and though her legs suddenly felt heavier than anvils, she ran to catch up to Jerry.

"Jerry, wait!" she called out to him.

Upon hearing her voice, he stopped in his tracks, and turned to her just quickly enough to catch her in his arms before she passed him by. "Yes, _Anne_?" he asked, using her given name rather than the diminutive.

Her words seemed to stumble as the tumbled through her lips, "I-I couldn't let you leave without… without telling you goodbye and thank you for keeping me company on the train today."

"You're welcome, _Anne_. I must admit that I enjoyed today far more than I expected to. Arguing with you is far more entertaining than reading the newspaper and arguing with _it_ in my head."

"I enjoyed talking with you about well, about _everything_. I even enjoyed arguing with you, though I think that you should read Angell's The Great Illusion. It very pointedly describes just why there will not be another major and destructive war in Europe because the interconnection between economies of all nations. Even the winner of such a war will be a loser." Nan found her voice. "You've spent far too many evenings with your Aunt and Uncle Douglas, reading Le Queux."

Wishing to debate more with Nan, but noting the ever-aging evening, Jerry has to suppress his more argumentative tendencies. "I would love to continue this conversation, but I really must be heading home. Shall we take up where we left off tomorrow in Rainbow Valley?"

"I will be more than prepared to spar with you." A glimmer of sunset flashed in those marigold eyes as she added, "Debating with you should be infuriating, but instead I find it… _exhilarating_."

This was the moment where they must part ways, yet Jerry found himself unable to let go as he lightly held on to her arm. Her cheeks were especially pink, her lips radiantly red, her eyes were alluring and _alive_. Rather than release her arm, he gently pulled it closer to him, bent his head down to hers, and kissed her soft lips.

Nan had never really been kissed before then, not like that. Other boys over the years, even Jerry, had given her sweet, friendly pecks, but never before had she experienced something so warm, so electrifying. She knew then that she never wished to kiss another. Her lips, her heart, her soul, her mind belong to Jerry Meredith.

They eventually parted, "I must go inside now," she informed him in a voice so hushed it was barely above a whisper.

"As should I. Goodnight my _Anne_, until the morrow," he whispered into her ear, then ran off before they were delayed any longer.

A different Nan returned to Ingleside. Nan the girl exited, but Anne the women returned. Susan took a look at her and worried that the Typhoid would affect yet another child of Ingleside.

"Nan dear, you look a mite flushed. I think you should go wash up and get a good night's rest." She patted the girl's arm as she passed, checking for any sign of a fever and found her to be a little warm.

Nan silently did as Susan instructed, still feeling Jerry's arms around her waist and his kiss burning her lips.

"Mrs. Dr. dear, I'm afraid our Nan looks a bit ill. I pray that she isn't coming down with that dreadful fever now."

Mrs. Blythe watched Nan glide up the stairs, her eyes full of stars and butterflies. Knowingly she told Susan, "No Susan, I don't think that she has a fever. Let's just let her be for now."


	4. Chapter 4

Still harboring stars in her brown eyes, Nan awoke as one within a dream. At the breakfast table, everyone seemed to be talking of _something _or another, but she never heard a word anyone said. She never noticed the warm glance her knowing her mother threw the way of her father, who appeared to be agitated almost to the point of tears. She never noticed Jem's eyebrow raised in a quizzical manner toward her, Rilla and Shirley's whispers, nor Walter's suppressed grin. She especially didn't notice the daggers in Di's eyes as she all but glared across the table at her twin, or the frustrated tone in Susan's voice when she tried to gain her attention. Jem, however, was determined to garner his sister's attention for purely personal reasons.

"Nan, could you please pass the butter?" he asked, though she didn't hear him. To her it was still the night before, she was in Rainbow Valley, and Jerry's arms still held her tightly. Again, Jem asked, and again there was no answer.

By this time, Jem had everyone's attention, save Nan's. Loudly, he cleared his throat, then asked her to pass the butter a third time. Finally, all his patience taken, he held his hand right in front of her face and snapped his fingers.

With a sudden "_Oh_!" crying from her lips, Nan jumped in her chair..

Rilla and Shirley giggled, Walter himself awoke from his dreams, Miss Oliver smiled sarcastically as she ate her bacon, Dr. Blythe resignedly sighed, Mrs. Blythe held back a warm chuckle, and Di narrowed her hazel eyes in close study of her twin. Susan, on the other hand, was still not sure if Nan wasn't coming down with the Typhoid, and determined to keep a close eye on her.

His biscuits still needing buttering, said butter was still sitting right next to Nan in body, no matter where her mind was. So, Jem was not to be deterred. "Would you _please_ pass the butter _now_, Nan? I have a busy day ahead of me!" Whether or not he did in fact have a busy day planned was beyond the matter.

Nan passed the butter to Jem, wondering aloud at his impatience. "Here you go, Jem. All that you had to do was just _ask_."

Jem cocked his head in disbelief, narrowing his own hazel eyes, and responded, "I _did_ ask you, Nan. I asked _three times_!"

Feeling very embarrassed, Nan apologized to her brother, "I-I'm sorry Jem, I don't know where I've been this morning."

A bit of the devil took over Di, who couldn't resist adding, "Or with _whom_," to the end of Nan's sentence, causing the rest of the table to look at her with disbelief. Though they were known to tease each other from time to time, never were any of them ever known to be so openly hostile with each other.

Suddenly Nan wondered if everyone at the table save possibly poor, befuddled Susan knew exactly what was on her mind. She thought of saying something to shift the focus from her to Jem, but was too embarrassed to do so. Anyway, though everyone knew that Jem and Faith seemed to spend a great deal of time together, what she knew of the true nature of her brother's relationship with Jerry's sister had been shared in the strictest of confidence. Instead, she ignored her twin's remark and just quietly finished her breakfast as quickly as possible. Soon other conversations began, shifting everyone's attention, and Nan only had to sit back and listen.

"So, what do all of you adventurous souls have planned for this beautiful day? Mrs. Blythe asked, her gray-green eyes dancing across the table from offspring to offspring.

Di, under increasing scrutiny from the rest of the family, finally relinquished the glare she had fixed upon Nan, and brightened her expression to answer her mother. "Walter and I plan to make our way over to Martin West's and see how Ken is faring."

Rilla's eyes grew wide, hoping that that an invitation would be extended for her to join Walter and Di, but she soon realized that was not to be. Obviously they didn't wish for their baby sister to tag along, following them like a puppy, even though she was sure Walter would have asked if Di had other plans. She was quite jealous of how close Di was to Walter, whom she worshiped more like some sort of deity than an older brother. She also was curious to see Ken and for him to see her. Hopefully he would notice how much she had grown up since Christmas.

Mrs. Blythe sadly shook her head. "I do wish _all_ of the Fords could have come to the Island this summer. I hate to see my dear little House 'O Dreams left so desolate. It _longs_ to be lived in and loved, especially in the summertime. Also, it seems _ages_ since Leslie and I have shared a good visit.

"Now Anne-girl, you saw Leslie at Christmas when they were here. Besides, Owen has to stay in the city while putting on the finishing touches of his latest book," Dr. Blythe reminded his wife.

"He could have spent more time writing the book right here on the Island, Gilbert." Mrs. Blythe argued.

The doctor just threw her a look that was a mixture of exasperation and pure, absolute admiration, though he had to tell her, "You're beginning to sound like Miss Cornelia, Anne-girl. I am rather surprised that Kenneth came alone, considering that he's been lame with a broken ankle."

The telephone then rang with a call for Miss Oliver, long distance from Charlottetown. Everyone waited quietly in anticipation, because they knew she was expecting a call from a Mr. Robert Grant concerning matters of matrimony. Expecting nothing but a joyful expression, they were shocked to see her return looking forlorn. She excused herself from the table and left, claiming the need to run a few errands in town.

Rather too laconically, Jem observed, "I'm guessing that she didn't receive the news she wanted."

Rilla, who adored her former teacher, appeared distressed and asked, "Do you think someone should go after her?"

"I imagine she'll talk when she is ready, dear," her mother advised. "Nan, what do you have planned for _this_, your first full day back at Ingleside?"

"Oh, nothing really Mother. I thought that I would just stay around here with you for a while, if you don't mind. Then, I think I'll take a ramble through Rainbow Valley to see if he-_it_ remembers me."

The thought of Nan wishing to remain close to her made Anne Blythe smile. With Jem away at Redmond and Nan teaching school in Avonlea, Ingleside had started to feel almost lonely. She missed her Nan, and the way they would sit out on the veranda, blithely discussing daydreams and other things from their imaginations.

Diana and Rilla were both loved by their mother in their own special ways, but neither had ever developed as vivid an imagination as her namesake. No, Diana was far too practical like Gilbert and Jem, always wanting to know the facts of everything, only allowing a bit of fancy into her life and often finding humor in the little foibles of humanity. Rilla had an imagination, but Anne was afraid that her youngest was growing too vain and self-centered. Everyone in the family spoiled her, though she often felt she was being patronized. Jem was very much his father's son, which of course made him special to her. Shirley may have been Susan's "little brown boy," but Anne saw in him something that only she and Gilbert could really remember. He was John Blythe all over again, and acted a great deal like him too. Also, though there was no blood relation, he also seemed to have inherited Matthew Cuthbert's shy, quiet ways. He was a marvel whose existence Anne could never quite get over. All of her children were so special and precious to her, but daydreams and fanciful though mostly were shared with Walter and Nan.

The doctor pulled out his pocket-watch and announced, "Well, I've got to make my 'round of visiting patients." As he stood up, he looked upon his family. So soon they would all fly away and leave the nest for good. Jem was almost there already, possibly Nan was too. Hating the change, but proud of their growth, he decided that the best course of action was to roll with the tide rather than to fight it. He looked to Jem and asked, "Would you like to accompany me, Jem?"

Disbelievingly, Jem looked up to his father. For years, he begged to help his father attend patients but was always told he would have to wait until her was older. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes Son, really. You've already completed your first year of medical school. I believe that you're more than ready. Besides, look at the skillful way you cut your meat. You have the hands of a born surgeon; you should learn all you can. I wish that I had been able to spend my summers learning from an experienced doctor. You don't have any other plans, do you?"

"I was just going to see if Jerry wanted to go sailing."

"I think that Jerry has other plans for today!" Nan blurted without thinking.

Everyone's attention turned from the conversation between the doctor and Jem once again to Nan. Her eyes suddenly grew into two large brown saucers. She couldn't believe that she had just blurted something out so impulsively. That was more something that Faith Meredith would do, not Nan Blythe! She was _supposed_ to be so much more proper; more like her dear mother. She _was_ named for her after all, and who better to imitate?

A mischievous smile spread across Di's lips, not unlike one a young Avonlea school boy had carried just before he had called a girl "carrots" in ages past. "Just how do _you_ know what Jerry's plans for the day are, Nan?"

Trying to remain calm and give an air of nonchalance, Nan answered, "Well…. I… I just seem to recall him saying that he had a lot to do today after being away so long."

Dr. Blythe would really have liked to at least attempt to talk to Nan more concerning what appeared to be a burgeoning relationship with Jerry. He also wished to discuss Di's sudden attitude change with her. However, he did have patients waiting to be seen. "Jem, do you wish to come along or not?"

Jem wiped his mouth and was up and almost out the door by the time he answered, "Sure thing, Dad!"

Dr. Blythe could only shake his head and laugh at his son's eager exuberance. "He'll be half-way down the harbour road before he realizes that I'm going the other direction, toward Lowbridge."

"He's just excited that you're including him, dearest," Mrs. Blythe assured her husband.

"I suppose you're correct, Anne-girl. You normally are about these things." The doctor then bade his family goodbye, kissed his wife, and was soon out the door himself, yelling at Jem to follow him.

Soon everyone was out and about, each doing his or her own thing. Di and Walter left to see Ken. Rilla went for a walk, hoping to find Miss Oliver. Shirley quietly mentioned something about a pick-up football game in the schoolyard that he and Carl Meredith wished to join.

Nan attempted to help Susan with the breakfast dishes, but Susan would hear nothing of it. "Nan dear, you're much too pale to be doing housework today. Now, be a good girl and run along outside. A bit of sunshine is what you need to cure that peakedness, and that you may tie to. No, no Typhoid for you, Nan dear. We will nip it in the bud this time 'round."

So, she was ushered out to the Ingleside garden by Susan, and joined her mother, also banished though for what reasons remain unknown, who was toiling away in her flowers.

"I see that Susan has expelled you from the house as well?" her mother asked, handing her a pair of work gloves.

Nan pulled the leather gloves over her dainty hands and picked up a spare pair of shears, "She seems to think that I'm coming down with Typhoid Fever."

Mrs. Blythe chuckled, "Allow her some room to dote, Nan. She's been driving poor Shirley and Jem insane since they returned from school. She's been rather obsessive about the entire family since Walter's close call. Had you been here through the worst, you would understand her fears."

That particular subject nagged at Nan's soul, causing her to take her frustration out on a rosebush quite harshly. She remembered what that time had been like for her, _alone_. "I would have been here had anyone bothered to inform me."

Anne Blythe pulled off her own glove and touched her daughter's arm ever so slightly. "Your father and I didn't inform any of you children how bad it was until the worst was over. Walter, when he was lucid, didn't wish to worry anyone. If Diana's Jack hadn't frequented the hospital in Charlottetown so often neither you nor Jem would have been so alarmed."

"But what if Walter hadn't recovered, Mother? Would Jem have had to make a long-distance phone call to me for that as well? Honestly, he thought that I knew more than he, because I was staying with the Wrights, and he was certain Di would have told me. What if Walter had died, and none of us had been able to tell him goodbye?"

"Anne Elizabeth Blythe, when you have children of your own, then you can make decisions for them!" Mrs. Blythe rebuked Nan. With tears in her eyes, she added, "You do the best you can in every situation. Sometimes things happen so quickly that even the most rational of people, like your father, can't make all the right decisions. He was busy being a doctor to a failing patient then, and I admit that I was quite lost. The thought of losing another child..."

"I'm sorry mother!" Nan cried out. "It wasn't my intention to cause you pain. I just felt so helpless being away from everyone else during a crisis. It made me feel as though I wasn't a part of our family."

"No, no. It's quite all right, dearest. I think we're both the better for airing these feelings. As I grow older, I'm learning how dangerous it is to let some things fester. I don't think that I have ever reconciled myself with how close we were to losing Walter. It brought back all the pain of losing your sister, Joyce."

Seeing her mother so, so _fragile_ left Nan deflated. "No one ever speaks much of Joyce," she said barely above a whisper.

"Well," her mother looked down at her hands, "there isn't really much to say, in some ways. She lived but one short, bittersweet day. I didn't _know_ _real_ heartache until she closed her eyes to eternal sleep. She was such a sweet, white, beautiful baby."

"I think that I would have liked to have had an older sister."

Mrs. Blythe smiled, thinking of what things would have been like had Ingleside been filled with three sons and _four_ daughters. "I imagine she would have been a bit of a mother-hen to the rest of you. I see bits and pieces of her in you and all your brothers and sisters. As I've watched you and your siblings grow into the splendid adults you're becoming, I've watched her grow as well. She would be twenty-two... well tomorrow, actually, come to think of it."

"Tomorrow?" Nan asked.

Mrs. Blythe smiled a little ruefully, "Yes, tomorrow. I imagine at some point, your father and I will go over harbor and "visit" with her for a bit."

"Could..." Nan didn't know how to ask. She didn't want to intrude on something private between her parents, but she felt an immense urge to somehow get to know this sister she never met. Given the behavior of her own twin the past few days, she longed for an older, more experienced sister in whom she could confide. "Would I be imposing if I asked to join you when you do?"

Mrs. Blythe took her daughter's hand, tears still glistening in her grey-green eyes, "I think it would be wonderful." She waited a moment, then asked, "Is there any particular reason why you want to go this year?"

Nan dug her trowel into the ground a bit and admitted, "I know that she can't talk back – at least not in ways other people would ever understand, but I think that I would like to confide in my older sister a bit. I grew rather used to sharing with Delia while in Avonlea, and I miss that."

"Do you not feel like confiding in Di anymore?"

Nan felt almost like she was tattling on Di, but knew that she wasn't. She also didn't wish to keep any secrets from her mother. "I don't really feel comfortable talking about _this_ with Di. From what I can tell, I don't believe she would be very receptive to what I have to say."

"Regarding Jerry?" There, her curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn't resist. Nan looked at her mother incredulously. "Nan, I may like to dream a bit, but I have eyes, don't I?" her mother laughed.

Straitening her back, puffing up a bit like some sort of porcupine ready to defend, she asked, "Is it that obvious?"

Mrs. Blythe cocked her head from one side to the other as she replied, "Yes, no... maybe. Your father and I recognize certain symptoms. Jem possibly suspects, though I think he may possibly be living in his own world right now. Also..."

"Di knows," Nan finished for her mother, "though I don't understand why she is being so hostile. She's always liked Jerry, before now at least."

"I can think of two or three reasons. However, you are both grown girls. I will leave it up to the two of you to work this out, which I daresay you will eventually."

"Mother," Nan asked, "do you and Dad approve of Jerry. That is, do you approve of Jerry and I _together_?"

"If you truly love him, then yes. He is a gifted young man with a great deal of potential. So long as he loves you, and you love him then of course we approve. Well, _I _approve, and you father is coming around to the idea, albeit _slowly_. However, we wouldn't want you to be with him just because he is comfortable and familiar. Venturing into the world as an adult and going away to university; those are frightening things. Sometimes we cling to what we know, because it is easier than that which we do not. "

"I _am_ comfortable with Jerry, and being with him is easy. I think it would be that way even if we had just met though. I am comfortable with him, because I _lo_... I" she didn't dare finish, lest her heart betray her more.

Mrs. Blythe was more than happy to once again complete her daughter's sentence though. "Because you _love_ Jerry?" Nan was suddenly finding that normally delightful twinkle in her mother's eye to be quite annoying.

"Yes! Or, I think that I do. How can one be sure, Mother?"

Mrs. Blythe laughed and caressed Nan's cheek with the back of her hand. "That, my dear you will have to discover on your own. I can no more tell whether or not you are in love with Jerry Meredith than Mrs. Lynde was able to tell me that I was in love with your father."

Nan was intrigued by this bit of family history she knew little of. "I just assumed that you and Dad had always been sweethearts, that you went through your years at Redmond together, hand in hand."

"Gracious no, Nan! Your father was always sure of me, but I didn't realize that what I felt for your father was love. I was looking for something grand and magnificent like in novels. I didn't realize that true love is slow and gradual, becoming sweeter and more dear over time. I refused your father's first proposal."

"You _did_?" Nan could not imagine a world where Anne and Gilbert Blythe weren't two halves of one whole.

"Yes, _yes_. I grew angry with him for ruining a perfectly fine friendship too. Your dear Aunt Phil, who incidentally is coming to visit in the next few days with her family, put it in a manner I shall never forget, 'You don't know love when you see it. You've tricked something out with your imagination that you think love, and you expect the real thing to look like that .' I almost married a young man who seemed dashing and romantic enough, but he had no sense of humor, really. I truly had tricked myself into thinking I was in love with him the last two years I was at Redmond. Thankfully I came to my senses about him. Thankfully your father didn't die when he had Typhoid either. It wasn't until he almost did that I realized how much he truly meant to me. It was the Book of Revelation in my life, and it came almost too late. If you have a chance at true love with Jerry and know your feelings now, then don't waste any time. Run with it, _within reason_. You never know what lies around the bend, be it good or bad. The good thing is that you have this summer and all of next year at Redmond before Jerry graduates at least to decide"

Nan's mother kissed her chestnut crown and left her to her own thoughts. There were so many thoughts rambling through her head. Was she in love with Jerry? She certainly couldn't imagine a future without him in it. Did he love her too? She had a strong inclination that he did. Oh how frightening and exciting this all was. What would life had been like had her mother married that other man? Also, what time was she supposed to meet Jerry in Rainbow Valley?


End file.
